All the rest of us
by wayofthepen
Summary: Life as a shinigami with the arrancar war on the horizon affects more people then just Ichigo and the others in the spotlight. Having just died, Hikaru has problems and battles of his own to fight. sequel to 'Shinigami in the basement'
1. Death

_As it was in my first fic, this is my own little private corner of the Bleach 'verse. I won't affecting the main storyline, it will be affecting me_

* * *

We now rejoin our illustrious hero, who had met an untimely end at the claws of a hollow and passed beyond the mortal coil. He has traveled the length and breadth of the other side to arrive at Seireitei, that hallowed ground where the shinigami dwell, ready to take his place among the guardians of life and death.

But first, I have to fill out these forms in triplicate, and go through an extensive examination period involving everything from personal interviews to tests of my ability.

It's like applying to a fancy private school…but with dead people.

* * *

The very first day I work up in Seireitei, I'd seen some of fourth squad's medics hovering over me, taking care of my wounds. I'd heard Iba-san grunting congratulations on the kill I'd made from the doorway. And I was so sore I'd told them all to just go away, turn the lights out and let me get some real sleep for once since this whole mess had started.

I'd pulled the blankets over my head, and felt the texture of the cloth over me. It wasn't like the sheets on my bed. I'd sat up, and there wasn't anyone in the room. And I had been surprised by how bright it was, until I saw that it was sunlight, streaming in through wood plats set in a very old-fashioned window, not coming through modern plastic blinds or down from an electric bulb.

It took a good minute for the truth of the situation to really sink in. I had…died…and I was on the other side, heaven, nirvana, whatever people care to call it. I was trying to become a shinigami, a guard and guide for lost souls.

I sat up and reached for a bundle of cloth on the nightstand. I saw rough, hand-woven cloth, felt it on my skin when I put it on. But it wasn't the 'cloth' I was used to. I pressed my senses into it, and saw the faint energy within, particles of spiritual energy woven into the semblance of something familiar. If I tried hard enough, I could touch everything around me…the walls, the floors, the earth and stone deep beneath my feet. Further outwards, reiatsu was thick in the air, currents and eddies forming as powerful shinigami moved and tapped their power around me. But I'd felt all of that before, just not on this scale, and I was really expecting something more…fantastic, you know? Things didn't feel much different then while I was alive.

Alive.

I had…died.

I'd stood there, quietly, for some time as my brain tried to process that thought until the tramp of feet outside my door pulled me back to reality. I finished dressing and headed out with a small rush, and left that thought behind and for another day.

A few minutes later, I walked out into the sunlight, a courtyard full of fresh recruits milling around; talking and laughing like any students would when the teacher was late. I was wearing one of the academy's snazzy student uniforms, and one other thing.

A zanpakutou. Not a fake, but a real one that manifested a short while after my arrival. To say that it was a part of me was an understatement. More like it was most of me, all my power flowing in and out of it in tune with my breath and my heartbeat, an essential part in tune with every other system in my body. Of all those present, I was the only one there with a sword at my hip.

The instructors at the academy told me I would learn to meditate, to clear my mind and find tranquility enough to communicate directly and clearly to my zanpakutou, to learn from it and grow stronger. Mainly, I wanted to know why it refused to shut up, a tirade of incomprehensible sounds and half-formed images rattling the back of my skull.

The students started to stare when I finally pulled the bastard from my belt and started whacking him against the nearest rock.

Purest manifestation of my soul's essence my **ass**.

* * *

An hour's worth of speeches, another half-hour of being juggled by the faculty to decide where I should be placed because of the unique circumstances, and another dozen forms to be filled out later, I stood outside my first class. I wanted to go in, but I waited a moment, just watching the other students filing past. I looked away, and tried to think about what was behind me, remember my old life in another world.

But only for a moment, before stepping into the room and taking my place among the shinigami.


	2. blessings and curses

Most lectures, the novelty wears off five to fifteen minutes into it. Varying by subject and voice of the speaker, of course. My first 'class' was an official welcome, and a 'brief' discourse on the history of the shinigami, the founding of the academy and the construction of Seireitei by the current Sou-taichou. I'd paid attention the whole way through. On top of that, I'd taken notes. It was a little disturbing, actually. I've never done that before…

After that, it was a surprisingly mundane routine. A few simple written tests to gauge intelligence and education, followed by introductions and a brief word in front of the class to explain why we'd each wanted to become a shinigami. The usual forced social interaction that I'd always hated. This really was turning out a lot like high school…

Thankfully, the next part was quite relaxing.

"KYAAAA!"

The butt-end of my bokken came up and hooked neatly under my opponent's wrist as he stepped in for an overhead strike, and the blade went under his armpit. A shift with my hands and a twist of my hips sent the man rolling over me and onto the floor, and I heard a mixed response from the judges and other students at my display.

The newest recruits, myself included, were being run through a series of tests to gauge our abilities to determine what level we would be starting at in the academy. The shinigami academy didn't work like the schools I was used to, there was no exact 'pass' or 'fail' Once a shinigami was deemed ready, their marks determined where they were assigned in the Gotei 13. I'd scored decently in the physicals and the unarmed combat (hakuda) tests, but the training I'd received let me shine in the swordsmanship (zanjutsu) tests. But man, if I didn't tone this down, or at least score high in the kido tests, I was going to end up in 11th squad.

Kido. Now this was something I'd been looking forward to. I was exhausted after combat practice and had stuffed myself at lunch. I was still hungry, but I felt ready to blast the crap out of anything they put in front of me.

Sitting peacefully on the stand, alligator clamps rudely connecting it to a machine that spat out streams of paper with unreadable scratches on it, a small crystal was my test, waiting to take a simple measurement of my reiatsu.

When my name was called, I stood and walked down to the floor of the lecture hall, the students before me who'd scored high congratulating each other.

"Alright…Teranaga-san…" The aged instructor took another look at the clipboard he was holding before waving me forward and fiddling with one of the many dials on the machine next to him. "Just place your hand on the crystal, and allow your reiatsu to be absorbed by it."

I stepped forward and began to warm up, but stopped when a flash of pain went through my arm. This was the second time that'd happened now. Damn …I must've taken overdone it earlier…

I heard snickering behind me when I paused to rub the aching muscle.

"Teranaga-san, anytime…"

I laid my hand on the crystal and focused my energy down into it. The machine had a seizure, tossing up sparks and wisps of smoke, the paper reel jamming in a chorus of grinding gears. When I pulled my hand back, the crystal was blackened and cracked.

"Oh! My apologies, sensei."

I stood there with my best awkward pose as the teacher fretted over the ruined machine, and I saw him release a strange black butterfly as I returned to my seat, wearing my best innocent face as I passed the people staring at me. Going through high school once as one of the invisible types was hell enough. This time, I'd thought I'd make a good first impression.

And that's why I sat down carefully, and tried not to let anyone see how much pain I was in.

Whatever it was, it was down to a dull ache after a few minutes, and class thankfully ended early, the students encouraged to go out, mingle with each other and try talking to a few of the seated officers that were at the academy to look over the freshest batch of recruits. Me, I went straight for the infirmary and took a seat after talking to the waiting nurse.

And then I promptly passed out.

I came back to my senses to see the familiar green relief band worn by fourth squad. My head was lifted up and something bitter went done my throat. Tasted terrible, but it cleared my head. Guess some things never change…

"How do you feel?"

"Like a hollow 's been pounding on my damned insides…"

I felt worse then before, like I'd gone a dozen rounds with a hollow, drained and almost numb. Still, I forced myself to sit up even as a pair of arms tried to push me back down. I was inside the infirmary, bare walls and white sheets annoyingly familiar. I turned to see a skinny, average-looking guy eyeballing me in a 'I just fixed you so please don't do anything crazy' fashion that screamed 'doctor.'

"Unnnggg…What happened?"

"Oh, it's just a simple case of reiatsu starvation. You'll be fine with some rest."

"Reiatsu-what?"

"Oh, it's…well, you have your body, and the reiatsu it generates. When you expend your energy as forcibly as you did, the body may respond by cannibalizing itself to replenish it's stores of energy. You really should be more careful during kido training."

"I wasn't doing any kido training. I just got here. I was doing the crystal test thing."

"Ah, that brings back memories…wait a moment…you mean to say you weren't actually expending any reiatsu?"

"No, I just…charged up, and…"

He hmm'ed, putting his hands together and making some odd twisting and sliding motions with his fingers as they lit up. He placed a hand over my solar plexus, tilting his head as if he was listening for something.

"Strange…There's no damage to the _chain link _or the _soul sleep…_would you draw out some reiatsu for me?"

"A-alright…"

I began to warm as energy floating freely began to condense and take form along the meridians of my body. Feeling returned and washed the numbness away, and I began to breathe easier as my chest hummed with reiatsu once again.

"Everything looks-"

Something shook inside me, lines of energy snapping and twisting. I convulsed, nearly falling off the bed as everything went wrong inside me, my left arm paralyzed like I'd hit a live wire, my right leg feeling like boiling water had been poured over it, the bruises from earlier feeling fresh and crying out louder then before.

Someone shouted. More hands went on me and held me down as I continued to shake, darkness swimming around my vision. I fell unconscious listening to shinigami yelling at each other, and a cold presence that withdrew as they worked to help me._  
_

* * *

_You ass._

"What?"

_You need to learn to take care of yourself…_

"Who's there?"

I opened my eyes to a grey fog, solid beyond arm's reach, concealing everything but the ground I was standing on, gray slates run through with red veins like marble. I stood, still in pain, to see a current in the air that might have been someone moving through it. I stumbled forward and the fog parted before me, but staying thick and impenetrable beyond an unnervingly short distance.

_Damn, I got stuck with a complete idiot. Nevermind picking a fight with a hollow ten times your size…when you were already tapped and beaten up, I might add. _

"Who-where am I? What is this?"

I followed a disgusted sound forwards, and reached out but caught nothing but more fog when I felt something move past me.

_Ah, you're hopeless. Doesn't even know his own mind…_

_"_My own m…? Show yourself!"

_Pfft…you expect me to do _**everything**_for you__, dipshit? This actually requires a little effort on _**your **_part, ya' know._

"What? What are you **talking** about?"

A disgusted sound was the only reply, and the feeling of something moving away. I yelled and reached out.

* * *

I woke with a yell, shaking as I tried to catch my bearings. A hand was holding my wrist softly, but it might as well have been made of cast iron – it wouldn't move an inch. I was back in the infirmary, white walls mocking me with their damn…whiteness. I followed the hand around my wrist back to a serene face framed by a long braid. The woman holding my arm guided it back down to my chest before letting go. I flexed it gently, but it wasn't bruised in the slightest.

"Ahh…"

I tried to sit up. She asked me to relax and lay still. I stayed still.

"You awoke on your own, that's good. I was beginning to worry…"

"Awa…wha? I…" _What had…I had gone to…and…_"Everything…hurt, and I…"

"You were in a coma."

"A coma? What? Why?"

I startled at the word and began to flail around, trying to get off the bed and away, to someplace safer, maybe. The woman placed a hand flat on my chest and held me down without an apparent effort, talking to me, reassuring me until I finally calmed. Looking around, I saw I wasn't in the academy infirmary anymore. It was a small room, a mess of the techno-mystic gear that shinigami used next to the bed I was in, chirping out my vital signs merrily.

"I…I'm guessing…this isn't reiatsu starvation…"

She smiled, a smile for delivering bad news, but I still felt a little better for it.

"No…no, I'm afraid not…"

Unohana Retsu, captain of 4th squad. My case had been so strange; the medics had called for her personally. It felt like yesterday since the academy infirmary, but I was shocked to hear it had been nearly two weeks. In the days that followed, I learned a little more about what happened to me as I was held for testing and observation.

From what I could understand, the souls of people who didn't have any reiatsu to speak of could get by with just water, while those _with _reiatsu needed to digest the higher-density spirit particles in food to fuel the creation of reiatsu. Normally, a spiritual body (like mine) capable of generating reiatsu needed a certain store of said reiatsu inside it to function, but for whatever kami-damned reason, my body chewed up the reiatsu it generated almost as fast as it could make it. It was acting like a biological body with an out-of-control metabolism. I was hungry again by the time the food I ate was digested, and if I tried to 'charge up' I'd burn out my reserves so fast my body would react by cannibalizing itself for the energy it needed.

Needless to say, I'd been pretty screwed over. Even Unohana-taichou admitted that she'd never seen anything like this, and that she had no idea how to fix the problem. I spent three days under fourth squad's care before I went stir-crazy and asked to be let out. Without a solution, the only advice they could give me was to not, under **any **circumstance, to generate more reiatsu than I absolutely needed to get by.

* * *

A week after returning to the academy, I was going **nuts. **I couldn't participate in kido classes, couldn't use shunpo, couldn't even raise my reiatsu in defense when a seated officer walked by, and I was **always **hungry.

Ironically, this had a few fringe benefits. I didn't need to expend reiatsu for even the heaviest purely physical work, so I concentrated on exercising my traitorous little body at every opportunity. By the end of a few months, I was in the best shape of my life. It helped, but only by the smallest degree.

On top of that, since reiatsu was heavily restricted during zanjutsu tests for fairness between those of varying degrees of power, my handicap wasn't an issue. In addition to all my physical training, plus the fact that other shinigami, particularly the stronger ones, were used to and couldn't help but rely on their reiatsu during combat, this gave me a serious advantage. I was soon at the top of the zanjutsu classes.

But kido classes were barred to me. The only thing I that could do was the focusing exercise, hours on hours spent with my hands pressed together, trying to make the use of my reiatsu as efficient as possible, to squeeze out every last scrap of energy without the slightest waste.

I did get a lot of reading in, studying everything I could fit into my brain. Medical techniques. Tried to learn otherworldly physics and the scientific applications of reiatsu. The history of the other side and whatever random trivia was in reach to keep my mind off my problem when I got depressed.

* * *

Soon, I was one of the best swordsmen in the academy, but outside those walls I couldn't cut the weakest of hollows with what little reiatsu I could muster.

When a hollow or another shinigami allowed their reiatsu to bleed out into the surroundings, when the wayward energy infringed on another's, the intrusion felt and the feeling recognized, thusly the talent for sensing the reiatsu of others was developed. I'd built up an iron-clad control of my reiatsu, to the point that not a single particle went to waste, making me effectively invisible to that sense, but I still couldn't expend enough energy to light a candle.

It felt like some fantastic, cosmic joke was being played on me. And when it came to the annual review, the time to decide if any students were ready to be assigned to the gotei 13, it only got worse.


	3. warnings, truths

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound echoed through the twilight world, a foot sounding out a rhythm on the red-veined slate beneath it. For what seemed like hours, nothing else had been heard in this world.

I was going past impatient and working my way up to pissed. Months ago, after falling comatose because of my disability, I had found myself in a strange, barely-lit place floored with rough tiles and choked by fog. I'd thought it was a dream at first, but when it came up during my examination by fourth squad, I'd learned it was something else entirely. I had fallen so deep inside myself that I'd been forcefully introduced to a part of me that was born when I became a shinigami. I had learned that this nil-space was a representation of my own mind, that the voice I had heard was that of my zanpakutou. I had done, days after becoming a shinigami, something that most took a good year to do. Another of my condition's little 'fringe benefits.'

So I was told to find this place again, to speak to my sword, to learn from and attune to it, to bring out my true power. So I did. Over the course of time, the fog had receded. It had once hung solid at arm's length, and there was now a clear space around me nearly thirty feet across. Some days, I thought I saw something like a red sky above me when the fog thinned on occasion. But there were still places barred to me, where the fog would not recede as I approached, barriers where the wisps of fog were solid as stone to my hands.

I had made progress. Slow, agonizing progress. But because my illness apparently wasn't curse enough, and I had been stuck with the most foul-mouthed, self-centered,** bat-shit crazy little bastard that I'd been ever forced to stand and listen to! **And that's only when he actually deigns to speak to me…I've stood in this place for hours on end without hearing anything from him, and then he starts babbling about seemingly random topics in a frenzy – everything from the clothes I wear to what I eat, to the way I talk to people.

Sometimes I can just sense him floating just beyond my vision, being perfectly quiet, waiting until I finally lose my temper and start screaming bloody murder at him, and then he'll start laughing his ass off and congratulating me for it, for whatever reason. Sometimes, even when I think I **am **making progress, he'll pull away in a rush of frigid air that sends me back to consciousness and chilled to the bone.

There hasn't been any chill yet, so I know he's out there somewhere, waiting for some kind of outburst from me. Or I'll outwait him and he'll lose his patience, nitpicking about some tiny little thing from my day that I'd probably forgotten about.

"Screw this…"

I have better things to do. I turn and begin looking for that one tile where the red veins converge, a representation of my desire to leave this place. It always takes a few minutes to find…

_Hey…_

"Huh?"

_Don't 'huh' me. Who else could it be?_

That's…weird. My zanpakutou, for once, sounds tired. Almost subdued.

"I don't know. You won't give me your name."

_Yeah, well, it doesn't work like that…_

"I know, I know. 'The zanpakutou doesn't give its name, but when you have attuned yourself with that higher part of your being, you will realize you have known it all along."

Something a teacher had said in class. Talking to your zanpakutou was supposed to be partly spiritual, partly psychological. For me it was mainly a pain in the ass.

_Yeah…_

Huh? What's wrong with him/me?

…Us?

"What's-"

The winds began to whip up, stronger than I've ever remembered. I could see frost forming on the ground, and I fumbled between putting my hands in the sleeves of my robe and raising them to shield my face.

_You gotta get attuning…_

The winds howled, and a blast of almost tangible cold slashed through the space between the space between my zanpakutou's presence and I.

"What? I can't-"

_YOU NEED TO KNOW MY NAME!_

The world stilled, the fog frozen solid in the air, my sandals stuck to the ground by a sheet of ice. I heard a single deafening crack before the world shattered and fell away, everything going dark.

* * *

"Hey! HEY!" 

"Wha…"

There was a face above me. Another student, I couldn't place his name. He was shaking my shoulder, looking at me in concern. My 'condition' was well known on the campus. More then one prospective 4th squad medic had sat in on a reiatsu transfusion, the only kind of treatment that could help when I'd overstretched myself One of the advanced students, a genius at the top of his class, had asked if he could run a few experiments on me, write up a paper he hoped would make an impression on the twelfth squad come time for squad assignment.

"I'm…I'm fine, thanks."

I stood carefully, leaning on the tree I'd been sitting under for support. I smiled and nodded to the other student, who only looked at me in mild disbelief as I thank him for his concern and started off for the cafeteria. I was always particularly famished when that jackass zanpakutou of mine gave me the cold shoulder.

A minute later, after the two of us were gone, a leaf tore itself from the branch it was hanging from and plummeted to the ground. It shattered on impact, ice crystals clinging to it despite the midday sun.

* * *

Nom, nom, nom…Ernnh! n' gd t'dey… 

The one thing I'd actually grown to hate since becoming a shinigami was eating. Even though I'd learned early on to bring a book, it was still mind-numbingly boring. It'd take a good half-hour of solid chewing to get just enough food to last me through the day. At least I didn't have to worry about going to the bathroom a proportionate amount – shinigami digestion of spirit particles was many times more efficient than humans and real food.

As I worked on my third bowl of soup, I rudely pulled my zanpakutou out and laid it on the table in front of me. The main colors were crimson over grey, with a smattering of multicolored threads woven haphazardly throughout the grip at random. It had no real guard to speak of and I flicked away a drop of water than had run down onto my finger, pausing my meal to carefully wipe away the melting flakes of frost on the blade. I lifted it back up, but paused before sheathing it, gripping the blade tightly with my bare hands. It was still cold.

Cold?

I get the feeling like I've forgotten something...

Whatever the thought was, it was left behind as my zanpakutou's odd behavior replayed in my mind. He was always so loud, almost manic when he got going. But today, he'd seemed almost…worried.

No.

He was desperate.

And the cold…I always felt the cold when I overtaxed myself. Was it a symptom of my illness? Was I getting worse? Those I'd talked to were divided about the idea of releasing my zanpakutou. Some thought the strain might be too much for my body. Some thought it might help me. My zanpakutou was a part of me. Could it know something I didn't?

The gong sounded, calling the students to class. I downed the last bit of soup and sheathed my sword in a hurry. Today was a day I'd been looking forward to for a long time.

* * *

"I can't?! COME ON!" 

"Teranaga-san, please…"

It was the day for the annual test given to students, the same test in which I'd fought and died all those months ago. Granted, I was stuck to armed and unarmed combat classes, and the few other things that didn't require much use of reiatsu, but despite my pathetically low reiatsu I had good grades across the board.

"I can do this. I **have **done this!"

"Your ability is not is question, student. It has never been so. However, your reiatsu-"

The wood of the desk splintered under my fist, and the instructor broke off with a start, the students seated around me jumping in surprise. What little energy I had was bleeding away, hissing and angry in the air around me.

My reiatsu. My condition. My weakness. The mockery, the pity, the false politeness people showed me…

The way I always had to force myself to be so damned **calm **all the time if I didn't want to make things worse…

"Your rei…Class, can anyone tell me why we have these tests in the mortal world?"

Most were still staring at me. A few looked the teachers' way, but no one answered.

"This is because that while shinigami gain the majority of our reiatsu from the food we eat, we also absorb, and our abilities affected by, the great density of high-level spirit particles present in soul society. A concentration that is **much **lower in the mortal world. We travel there for testing because it is the only way to gain a truly accurate measurement of a shinigami's ability."

I was only half listening, staring at the splinters in my hand. I wasn't in the habit of outbursts like that, and looking at the blood on my hands, with the sound of the impact ringing in my ears, the world looked very abstract for a few moments.

"Indeed, when most shinigami travel to the mortal world for the first time, they invariably feel disoriented, have the control of their special abilities disrupted, and suffer a **severe **drop in the amount of reiatsu their body can generate."

"It'd been easier to just say, 'I'd drop dead,' wouldn't it?"

The teacher started up some very nice words of inspiration and encouragement.for the students present, but as his gaze swept the classroom, he didn't once look me straight in the eye.

Trailing blood, I turned and left without another word.


	4. Dead weight

I left the academy grounds. Down the streets, across the great plazas, I passed through one of the massive gates and a single step took me out of gleaming Seireitei and into dusty Rukongai. Some people offered greetings to the passing shinigami. I never responded. In honesty, I never really noticed them. I just kept walking.

Crowds thinned. There were fewer and fewer houses along my path. And then I was alone, stopping without notice. For the first time since I'd left the academy, my eyes focused on what was in front of me, and I looked down to see water lapping over my feet. Another minute, and I'd have been in the middle of a lake.

It was just after sundown. I had no idea how long I'd been walking, or even where I was.

"It's nice…"

The stars were out, without a single cloud to ruin the view. There was a full moon reflected clearly on the water's surface, water lilies and wildflowers all around me. The only sounds were the chirping of insects and the rustle of my robes as I turned away from the water's edge and sat down beneath a large willow, resting my zanpakutou across my legs.

"Yeah…nothing like this in the city…"

I was hungry, and I rubbed my protesting stomach.

"I wonder if dinner's…nah, to late. Mom's probably…"

Worried?

Angry!

Dead.

Gone…

"Oh…I forgot…I'm a shinigami now."

I picked up my zanpakutou, wrapping my arms around it, my cheek resting on the hilt. I was so _tired…_I'd come all this way, but for what? A sword? A robe? Just to be able to call myself a shinigami? I had all those things. But it wasn't what I wanted.

I…

I didn't know what I wanted.

_Don't you?_

"No…"

_Sure you do…you've always known. You just let things drag you down._

"I did?"

_Yeah! Don't you remember?_

"I…I think I wanted to…"

The ground shook and my head snapped upwards. The water rippled with an unseen disturbance, and I stumbled to my feet as a chill washed over me. But it hadn't been from hunger, from inside me.

No. It **had **been hunger. But it was from outside, from-

I rolled to the side as something shot out of the lake and shattered the tree I had been leaning against a moment before.

"Hollow!"

A withered hand, bristling with thorns, grabbed at the shoreline and pulled the body into view. It was thick and heavy, hunchbacked and wearing a shell ringed with waving tentacles. I had my blade in my hands and was down in a stance in a moment before it's reiatsu washed over me and I knew there was no way I could beat this thing.

I ran.

"Come back, shinigami..."

I stopped.

Why?

What was the point?

I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I tried, and I knew it. So I turned back to the thing behind me, settling back into my favorite combat stance.

_Huh…what'd you know…did you figure it out?_

"No. I just…"

_Just what?_

"I just know I didn't want THAT!"

I charged head-on. The beast shrieked in glee and ran forward to meet me. I ducked the first swing and slashed its leg as I passed, not making the tiniest wound. A pair on tendrils lashed downwards at me once I was behind it, and I jabbed the tip of my zanpakutou into the ground, cart-wheeling my legs out of the way and continuing on, ducking behind a tree.

"Little shinigami…so weak…"

_He's right. We can't hurt him. Why aren't you running?_

"Because! Because it's a hollow!"

Hollows. Souls that were evil to the core in life, taking on a fitting shape upon their death. A stroke of a blade sending them to hell for the pain they caused. Souls that had been wounded, touched by corruption, unable to control themselves, unable to keep from harming others even as they prayed for release.

"Either way…it's right there…I can't just ignore it…"

I didn't understand any of this. Really. Not myself, not the things I did or why I did them.

_'Cause you're not doing what _**you **_want…_

I ducked and rolled away as the tree behind me was felled. I headed deeper into the forest, trying to use the trees as cover even as gray flesh lanced out and shredded the wood around me.

_You're doing what you've been _**forced**_ to…what you felt you _**had**_to._

"I did want to become a shinigami…"

_Yeah, but WHY?_

"Because…When I was young…everything I saw…everything I wanted to do…then just…stuff, and school, and work and all that crap…and my parents…and then the shinigami I met..."

_You're wrong. That's not it._

"Yeah…you're right. I could of…but I never did it. I forgot about it…and did what everyone else wanted…"

_Nice guys finish last, huh?_

"I guess…I felt like I had all these obligations…stupid little things, really…"

Behind me, the hollow approached.

That was it. Right there. After my parents had died, I had lived alone, without anyone to support me. I did everything, because I was the only one who could do them. After that, everything was up to me. I had to decide everything for myself; I had to take on responsibilities and duties I'd never had before. I had to leave so many things behind, things I loved. They were childish, maybe, but every little game I played, every little dream I had, that was **who I was.** And in the rush to adulthood, I'd left them all behind, left them to gather dust without realizing any of them.

But I hadn't been growing up. I'd been growing old. And they were two completely different things…

The hollow's arm crashed down and hit nothing but air. A foot lashed out and cracked its mask, sending it stumbling back in shock.

"What I want…is just…to do what **I** want. I **wanted **to be a shinigami. I might not know **why, **exactly, but that doesn't matter!"

_Then tell me what you want. C'mon! Death's too short for regrets!_

"I…"

_C'mon! One thing! Name it! To hell with what anyone else says or thinks!_

A woman. Not loud or buxom, just a beauty that draws your gaze and this unknowable quality that catches you so quietly you're in love before you know it.

There was a low whistle in the back of my mind.

_Not bad…but aiming a little high, aren't you? You think you can reach someone like that?_

"I honestly don't know…but I bet I'll have a hell of a time finding out!"

The hollow was roaring. I'd made it mad. The feeling of cold intensified, and more masks appeared in the forest around me.

_Whoooaaaahh! It's a party!_

I lifted my zanpakutou above my head, letting the blade catch the moonlight. I saw another mask reflected in it, not that of a hollow, but loud and whimsical, painted bright with laughter and mirth.

"If it's a party, then let's dance!"

My blade shined, growing and twisting, even as the hollows charged in. Long and warped, a wavy stick, pale grey and mottled like a bone coming to rest over my shoulders, bright sashes and ribbons tied to it in a riot of colors.

"Dance!"

The bone bled, a crimson blade taking form, the massive scythe casting a long shadow.

"Sanguine Jester!"

I finally realized it. I had dragged myself down, forgotten what was important to me. All I ever wanted was to just live my life the **way** **I wanted**. To **do **the things I wanted. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd ever met the shinigami or not. They'd opened new doors for me…fighting hollows…working as the ghostwriter…but all of it was my choice, done my way, and in tune with my true nature. I'd just needed a little kick-start to get me back on the right track. **Damn, **if I didn't have a lot of lost time and opportunities to make up for.

The woods were torn apart around me as the hollows screamed as one and clamored towards me.

"And since I haven't gone full-out in so long…"

The scythe hummed in my hand, the colorful wrapping trailing behind it as I tested its weight and balance with an easy swing that split an advancing hollow in twain.

"This'll make for a nice little_ warm-up_."


	5. life, take 2

Even after the devastation, it was still a beautiful place. I'd returned to the tree I'd been sitting under, now broken and toppled. Sound was returning to the forest, bugs and birds beginning to call out once again now that the hollows had been destroyed.

My zanpakutou rested on my knees, and I took the chance to familiarize myself with its new form, every curve, every edge, every thread and cloth that was tied to it. Along with my zanpakutou, I was also examining my new self, along with the decisions I'd made in life, the things I believed in, and the way I felt about my life, past and present.

Years ago, when I parents had died, I'd lied about my age, said that I was capable of living on my own. I'd taken on the roles of my parents, paying bills and handling everything around the house by myself. I did everything I could to appear as a mature adult, and did away with anything that might contradict that image.

I was so afraid of change, of having what I knew and was comfortable with taken away, that I'd built up a false life around myself. But in the end, that disguise had taken over my life, taken away the things that were important to me.

Damn, I was an idiot.

Meeting the shinigami had helped me to break out of that. I'd seen and felt so many new things thanks to them, from love at first sight to despair so deep that the fear of death was laughable by comparison. So exhausted as I was, bruised and battered, I felt light and free like a child again, but able to decide the person I would grow up to be this time around.

For the second time that night, a bright face appeared in the blade of my zanpakutou.

_Not many people get a second chance, you know. Are you going to do things right this time around?_

"Yeah…"

I turned the blade slowly in the air, just watching the light reflect off the metal and catch on the ribbons and wrapping.

"I became a shinigami because it let me feel like it was when I was alive, just after I'd met them. Just like when my parents died, I'd done everything I could to hold onto the way things had been. But I don't want to live like that anymore."

_So what _**are **_you going to do? Quit being a shinigami?_

"No. I want to do this…but for my own reasons…"

The voice was quiet, tilting it's head, the mask and paint shifting slightly to express curiosity.

"I'll stay, but because I know this is where I belong. I became the ghostwriter because I **wanted **to help people, because I **knew **what they were feeling. I stepped between hollows and the souls of people I'd never met for the same reason, not because I'm some...big hero or even because it was 'the right thing to do.' The gotei 13 is so much bigger than me, doing big things that affect a lot of people. And I'm really going to be a part of it, not just going though the motions because it's familiar or comfortable."

_For whatever you feel, whatever your desire or reasoning, you must never do things for the wrong reasons. If you do, then whatever you might accomplish becomes meaningless. An empty gesture. _

"Mmm…sounds good…"

_AND NOW!_

"GAH! Don't-"

_Come on! Now that the requisite character development is out of the way, let's get back to the ACTION! What's it going to be? Some more hollows, maybe? OH! Think we can take on a Menos now? NO! Kido! YEAH! The fine magical art of BLOWING SHIT UP!_

"Oh, god…are you sure we're related?"

_Just get up off your ass and DO SOMETHING COOL!_

"Heh…"

I used the scythe to stand, stretching out slowly under the night sky. I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to recall the route back to Seireitei.

"There is…one thing…"

_You mean like that one dream you had? Break into the fortress of the twelve horrors, slay the evil wizard, rescue the beautiful damsel, then, ah…are you even old enough to hear this?_

"…The next time we meet, I'm kicking your ass."

* * *

Half a day later, I was back in Seireitei. My zanpakutou had returned to its sealed form, and with it, my reiatsu was back to it's previous low level, though it was nowhere near as uncomfortable as before. The cold and numbness that accompanied my hunger had retreated to a small pit in my chest, and my body felt more like my own again for the first time in a long time.

I went straight to the cafeteria when I reached the academy. Releasing my zanpakutou must have done something to whatever was afflicting me, and I didn't need to eat nearly as much as I used to. Between bites I noticed that there were fewer students around then normal, and one of the instructors told me the advanced students were already in the mortal world and wouldn't be back for a little while.

I needed something to do, and I was too hyper to rest. I found myself at the training grounds to see if there was any kind of scythe techniques or katas in the zanjutsu texts. There weren't any. They either hadn't been recorded or I was the first to carry a scythe for my shikai. I settled for grabbing every text I could find on weapons with similar principles…kama, naganata, spear, bo…I spread them out on the floor and picked up a blank from the racks against the wall, a lumpy, featureless rod as long as my forearm. Once it was in my hands an effort of will shifted it into the form of a scythe, the balance and weight exactly the same as my released zanpakutou. This was going to take a lot of work…

I brought the scythe to the ready, a sheaf of blank papers waiting for my notes, and I twisted my head to look at the first scroll.

"Left foot forward, then shift your weight…"

* * *

I was halfway through my bath when the bell rang for classes to assemble, and I stumbled out of the bathhouse with my zanpakutou in one hand and the top half of my robe in the other. I arrived in class wringing the water out of my hair and scattering water around me.

The students were very animated, boasting and jostling each other as they recounted their performance in the exam, though a few looked depressed, their minds elsewhere. Nobody paid me any mind as I sat down and tightened my belt, drumming my fingers on the desk as I waited for the instructor to show up.

I stood up and bowed with the rest as he walked in a few minutes later, trailed by two of his juniors who carrying some papers under their arms. From the looks the students were giving them, I guessed it was their test results. The instructor took the podium and began to address to students, the expected congratulations to the students assembled on their performance, and I waited through it all until I heard those magical words.

"In two days, we will be joined by seated officers from each squad of the Gotei 13. For many of you, it will be your last day with the academy. Because on that day-"

On that day…my life starts, and for real this time…

* * *

It was quite a party, the whole academy turning out to meet the visitors, half of which were lieutenants or higher. I saw several shinigami I recognized right away. Kyouraku-taichou was a bright, flirty pink blob moving from one young lady to another, his greetings punctuated by the occasional book to the head from his lieutenant. The youngest captain of them all, Hitsugaya Toushiro, the genius who was legend at the academy moved quietly past the gathered students, studying them and their official marks critically.

Assignments were the captain's purview, and many were insanely strict in whom they allowed to join their squad. Soifon-taichou was said to be one of the worst, a frightening woman with a presence and standards that would unfailingly break at least half of the annual hopefuls for second squad. Kurotsuchi-taichou was a close second, personally testing those who gained his interest, and popular rumor said those that failed were often never heard from again.

Eleventh squad, surprise surprise, had no real requirements to speak of, besides just being a good fighter. On the opposite end of the spectrum, first squad had dozens of conditions that had to be fulfilled be one was even considered for examination, let alone admittance.

Occasionally, someone in the crowd would whoop with joy, a scroll tight in their waving hands, a circle of friends congratulating them. There were a few speeches, both from instructors and captains, and even a few words from Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryūsai himself, the crowd motionless and silent from the moment he came into view.

I took in all in, expectantly, impatiently, hanging on every word that was said, approaching several of the visiting shinigami to exchange a few words. They were right – Soifon-taichou was terrifying up close, and the more daring part of me wished I'd be assigned to 2nd squad. It was a little weird bowing to someone who looked younger than me, but I came away from talking with Hitsugaya-taichou feeling like he was the most mature captain there. Tousen-taichou and Komamura-taichou inspired something like faith in every young shinigami who spoke with them, myself included. Ichimaru was as disturbing as always, sneaking up on me and saying 'See? I told y' so!'

As the day wore down and the crowds began to thin, it finally happened. I returned to my dorm for one last time, carrying away what few things I called my own in a pack over my back. I headed out with one hand on the hilt of my zanpakutou, and the other holding the scroll that held my commission.

Some people may knock it, but my reiatsu wouldn't allow for anything else, and I accepted that. Besides, the medical knowledge and techniques there were probably my best hope for returning myself to normal.

Teranaga Hikaru, 20th seat, 4th squad.

Hey, everybody's gotta start somewhere.


	6. The danse macabre

"Hey."

"Mmm…"

There was a hand on my shoulder. My neck was sore and it protested as I turned to look around. The pile of books told me I was in the 4th squad headquarters' library, and a blueish blob was floating down into my field of view.

"Wake up, now…"

"Hmm…Isane-fukataichou…what time is it?"

"Morning." She said with a chuckle, straightening up and looking at the nest of books I'd made.

I yawned and unfurled, stretching and blinking at the light coming in through the windows. The antique oil lamps spaced around me had long since gone out, cool and without a wisp of smoke between them.

"I see you pulled another all-nighter."

"Yeah, I…I thought I was on to something, when I found that book on mortal condition integration."

"A study of medical conditions that have such an affect on a person in life they translate to the spirit-particle based body after death." She read critically from the introduction of the largest tome. "I remember referencing this a long time ago, when I was first assigned to fourth squad. You also pulled out the case studies on Ukitake-Taichou and Tousen-Taichou, I see."

"Yeah. Blindness and the symptoms of a mortal disease. They're the most severe examples of the condition in the past thousand years."

She offered me a hand and helped me up, and I stretched out a second time, quieting my protesting muscles with a soft run over a few key pressure points

"Did you find anything useful?"

"No. Two pages in, I realized this condition is completely unlike mine." She gave me a puzzled look, and I flung an arm out to take in the whole library with one irreverent sweep. "But it was probably the last book in this entire place I haven't read yet."

She tilted her head slightly to look over my shoulder at the room beyond. 4th squads' library held information on every medical condition ever recorded and every technique devised. It was part school, part archive, part research lab. And it was understatedly massive.

Isane sighed, coming back with a smile that I recognized, worn by doctors across creation that I'd been on the receiving end far too many times for my taste. She looked about to say something, but a small voice interrupted, one of the resident nurses asking for assistance. I turned and began sorting the piles around me, saying a worn-out farewell as Isane excused herself and hurried out, and a few minutes later I was outside and on my way to get cleaned up before my daily duties.

I'd been a member of fourth squad for nearly six months now. Altogether, I'd been a shinigami for…almost a year, I think. My birthday, or maybe 'deathday' would be in a week or so. Huh. Too bad I didn't have much to celebrate. I was at the lowest rung of the ladder, both in rank and by the popular opinion of fourth squad. I hadn't even managed to release my zanpakutou a second time, no matter how much reiatsu I had crammed into me. I didn't want to believe it had been a fluke, that there **was **a cure for this…whatever it is.

But if the answer wasn't with fourth squad, where would it be?

* * *

In the distance, I could see the battlefield. Huge plumes of dust had been kicked up by the fierce fighting hung overhead like storm clouds, the bellows of furious hollows sounding out like thunder, followed closely by bright flashes of kido. I ploughed straight into a chaotic miasma of reiatsu, waves of the stuff thrown about by hollow and shinigami alike. The soup of energy was punctuated by wisps of half-dissolved cero energy that chilled my skin as I ran though them, and I tried to shake free the invisible shards of broken kido spells that stuck to me and stung like nettles as I brushed them.

No one had seen this battle coming. It was a quiet section of the 25th district of Rukongai, where anyone with a trace of spiritual power had been recruited into the shinigami long ago. And yet, one morning a host of hollows had burst out from elsewhere and attacked anyone in sight as they stalked and slithered and crawled a seemingly random course across the landscape.

Third squad was the closest, and had gone in to eradicate them. Five minutes after the two groups had clashed, a second swarm of hollows had been drawn towards the fight. Five minutes after that, huge hollows were happily wading into the melee. 3rd squad had called for reinforcements, and by the time fourth squad arrived to help the wounded who had been relieved by the support from Seireitei, an entire town had been smashed to rubble by an army of hollows that numbered in the hundreds, a trio of menos grande waving above the chaos like flags, a living battle-standard to declare the invader's identity.

Just my luck that this all happened on my day off.

There was no hospital, no fixed place to bring the wounded shinigami that had been pulled away from the fight. The first man to be lowered to the ground by the arriving medics had announced our presence, and everyone else had simply brought their injured _there,_setting them down wherever there was room for a medic to work

With no reiatsu to fuel healing techniques, I was running from body to body, bringing supplies or fetching doctors or being shouted at to stop and press **here **so the patient wouldn't bleed to death in the time it took to prepare the coagulants. I tried not to think about how much blood had soaked into my uniform, or to count the number of still forms under white sheets. Just focus on the training given me to keep doing what I had to-

"Hikaru!"

"Here!"

I crouched down next to a squirming body and handed a vial of foul-smelling salve over it to the medic hunched over her. I held the woman down as the medicine was applied to what looked like an acid burn across her stomach. She was bandaged and I was sent on my way, handing cloth and supplies out at a call, running back to the supply train when my pack was empty. There was more work to do. A lot more.

* * *

In time, I'm not sure how long, the menos were toppled and the frequency of screams had dropped. It was a matter of cleanup now, to find any hollows missed and secure the area. I was exhausted and freezing cold, the hollow reiatsu clinging stubbornly to me. I was rubbing my hands together as I was called, the surroundings not as chaotic anymore, fewer injured coming to us and many of those in better shape having been cleared out.

Unohana was there, the worst cases brought to her, slipping shinigami into Minazuki's mouth after she'd stabilized them. The smile that she always wore was gone, replaced with a flat, neutral expression marred only by the signs of concentration. Not crying, never crying. The smile might disappear, but she wouldn't allow anything more. It was something I'd heard. I guess it was true. I can't imagine what it took to hold those feelings back if this is what she'd been doing for the last thousand years…

I was halfway to her for new orders when the ground shook. The air rippled and chilled, and I turned to see one of the shinigami holding the barrier on one knee. A single hollow could cause untold bloodshed among the wounded, and it was standard in large-scale operations to maintain a barrier to prevent their entry, by creating a wall solid to their approach and even reinforcing the barrier between worlds.

But something wanted in. Badly. The air froze and fractured, shinigami hurried away, carrying the wounding on stretchers or raising their hands, whispering kido incantations under their breath. Ice formed on my arms and I staggered as I backed away, one hand on my zanpakutou. It hurt, so much…

A massive arm punched through a sliver of black and sank it's claws into thin air, impossibly finding purchase in nothing. Lighting and fire flew up to meet it, scorching the limb but failing to dislodge it. A hand gripped the edge of the breach, and tore at the boundary between here and _there, _stretching the gap wide enough for hollows to begin crawling through.

I heard blades drawn. Someone shouted my name as a hollow approached, a kido impact smashing its head to one side.

_Move!_

The chill was pressed deep into my body, and my legs refused to obey the thought. The hollow turned back, remaining focused on me despite the rain of kido smashing into it. It was huge, too large to be any ordinary class of hollow, and it reached out towards me, it's reiatsu numbing me to the bone.

Someone shouted my name. Someone close...

The hollow's hand split down the middle, and it roared in pain. I slid to a stop outside of it's reach, zanpakutou in hand and dripping blood.

_Cutting it a little close, aren't we?_

"I…I can hear you…how?"

The ground shook as the monster stumbled back, clutching it's injured hand.

_Damned if I know…_

The hollow focused on me once again, digging it's clawed feet into the ground and tensing like a runner awaiting the starter's pistol.

_But maybe we should think about that later!_

The hollow's body unfurled, launching itself forward at a speed surprising for it's bulk. It didn't get twenty feet before it toppled and ploughed into the dirt, one leg spraying crimson into the air. I was behind it, arms aching from the effort of cutting through the thick mass. I saw another target and leapt again, spearing a hollow with a textbook strike through the back of the skull. I rode the dissolving body down to the ground in front of some very surprised and equally relived squadmates.

I brushed myself off with a smile, saluting the surprised group in front of me before turning back to the fight. I twisted back around to face a shinigami next to me a second later.

"Hey!"

He jumped at the word, glancing nervously between me and the huge hollow pulling itself upright.

"It's the seventeenth, right?"

"Y-yeah…"

I laughed, openly.

_What?_

"You heard him."

_So what? What's so special about today?_

"It's the seventeenth!"

_So?!_

Behind my back, the other shinigami looked at me strangely. Between talking to myself and beginning to laugh like a madman, they must have thought I'd lost my mind.

"So…"

My body still hurt, daggers of cold sunk deep into me. But there was something else now, a warmth that was spreading outwards, snapping and crashing against the chill in my veins. Something I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"It's…"

_Oh!_

"My-"

The hollow stood, eyes burning with hatred, and I raised my sword horizontally, one finger pressed against the very tip of the blade.

"-fucking BIRTHDAY!"

_Whooooah!_

"And I feel like a **dance…**"

I flicked the sword out, a single drop of my own blood on the blade.

"Sanguine Jester!"

The hollow was slammed backwards, the butt-end of my scythe impacting on its forehead. I kicked off and spun, taking it's jaw clean off as it opened in mid-cry of surprise. I landed in the dirt and flipped away at the hollow covered it's wound with one hand and flailed at me with the other.

It froze suddenly, and I felt reiatsu whip past me, being drawn inwards towards something.

"Cero?!"

Red light pooled in what was left of it's mouth, and I leapt straight in as those knuckleheads at the 11th had taught me, dashing between it's legs with my scythe out, digging deep into the hollow's stomach. But there wasn't enough force behind the blow and the blade stuck fast. The next thing I felt was a massive hand wrapping around me, yanking shinigami and scythe upwards to be flung high into the air.

I found my center and twisted to face my opponent, gauging the angle. I flung my scythe as hard as I could even as the cero took form and boiled out towards me.

I hit the ground hard, flat on my back, my uniform sizzling and burnt. The fastest flash-step of my life **or**death had still left me grazed by the outer edge of the attack.

"Ow…"

A face appeared above me, a squadmate asking me if I was alright, if I needed help. I lifted my head weakly, just enough to see the last of the huge hollow's body dissolve, my blade deep in its chest.

"Only with my landings…"

* * *

The day was won, a bloody victory in a pointless battle. But it was a victory nonetheless. By all accounts, no less than five menos-class hollows had been slain, and more then three hundred of the lesser varieties alongside. The tired army returned to fanfare and congratulations, officers praised by the higher-ups even as the wounded were rushed past to relief centers.

It was a personal victory for me as well. Sanguine Jester had remained, apparently to stay. He didn't return to the sealed form of a sword, but obliged me by folding up into something more portable, an unassuming bone-grey rod with gaudily coloured streamers catching the breeze. There was still a lot of work to do, work that I would be included in now that I had some reiatsu to speak of, and I threw myself into it wherever I was needed, happy despite a lingering chill.

It had become so bright and warm outside, intolerably so, and inside me the chill seethed with disgust and resentment.


	7. Accept all things

Short chapter, the next bit I feel is too different in feeling to attach to this.

And oh yeah. Attempting to write out this view of Unohana Retsu that my brain pieced together and supplied me with was officially the most INSANELY DIFFICULT thing i've ever done.

* * *

"Ah! Hikaru-san!" 

I nodded to my squadmates as I slid the door shut behind me. I'd become a little popular after the mayhem a week ago, with congratulations all around for throwing off my illness and fighting in defence of the wounded under our care. I'd never been what you'd call 'social' and it had been a little difficult at first, working in an organized group like fourth squad. But my time with them and even with my zanpakutou (though I'd be damned if I ever admitted it to him) had chipped away at the shell around me, but exchanging pleasantries was still something I had to stop and remember to do.

So I smiled and gabbed (three sentences, a personal best) before saying goodbye and hearing the gravel crunch underfoot and I stepped out into the garden. The air was chilly, and it prickled my skin as I raised my arms to stretch out.

I couldn't sleep.

I couldn't understand why. I'd been restless since the battle, since Sanguine Jester awoke with a vengeance and my power came flowing back to me. I'd been happy, of course. With that one last obstacle gone, I felt like a true shinigami. My life-my existence, could finally move forwards. 

I was starting to learn medical techniques that required a precise control of my reiatsu, and the time spent making use of every drop of power I could eke out meant I had all the training needed. No time to waste playing catch-up before learning the techniques themselves.

That careful control of power leant itself to more general kido as well. The few simple spells I'd learned were more powerful then their level would suggest, my focus packing the spirit particles I worked with into such a dense mass that they were many times more difficult to dispel or defend against.

I had everything that I wanted. A home, a family, a purpose, and all the little luxuries and abilities I'd thought lost, and more. But right now, something I couldn't identify was weighing on me even though I had few regrets and even fewer worries.

I lowered my head to see my reflection in a pond, framed by a bright full moon. The image was clear and deep, and I stared at it until a breeze brushed the water. I grinned half-heartedly and watched the distorted reflections grin back. A dozen smiling faces, and not one of them could tell me what was troubling me.

"There's just no pleasing some people, huh?"

A sudden rustle startled me, turning and reaching for my zapakutou.

"Oh! My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you."

Unohana-Taichou appeared from behind a tree, and as realization of who it was finally sank in, I pushed my weapon back into it's sheathe with a trembling hand.

"No, no…I'm just…"

She padded quietly across the grass, eyes gently focused on some distant thing only she could see, some thought or star she seemed to be contemplating. I tried to look away, to collect the thoughts I'd tried to dismiss with a quip. My gaze went back to the pond, to my reflection…and to the hand still tight around the grip of my zanpakutou.

I jerked the hand away, holding it close and tight. I dared to look up, to see if I'd been caught, but Unohana's eyes weren't on me, but on some distant point, her expression unchanged as if everything was normal. It was a lie to make me feel better. She'd seen it. Probably knew something was wrong with me long before I did.

Unohana Retsu. When you were in her care, you'd remember things you'd thought you'd forgotten, the smells of pleasant memories and music from bygone days. Speaking to her was speaking to your most trusted confidante, your oldest friend. She was never imposing; her presence always welcome, bodies relaxing on pure reflex whenever she approached. Above all else, she was my **Taichou.**

And I'd almost pulled my zanpakutou against her.

She hadn't even blinked, of course. We stood together quietly, her eyes distant and mine downcast. I'd look back on that evening later and never really understand how she'd done it, never know how she could read a person's heart so easily.

"I…couldn't sleep."

"That's understandable. There are some things…mere training cannot prepare you for." 

"No, no I've…been in fights before. I've seen worse."

"You have?"

"When I was…alive, heh…I was introduced to hollows by the eleventh squad. They taught me how to fight, even got my first lessons in reiatsu-use from them."

"Hmm…I thought I saw their…_influence…_in your fighting style."

We shared a grin at that, the break in the conversation letting the sounds of the evening reassert themselves. I sank into the sounds of the breeze through leaves and over the grass, glanced about for the chirps of insects and strained to catch the meaning of words from distant conversations, reached for anything in my surroundings that might pull me away from what I was feeling.

But Unohana-Taichou wouldn't let me escape. She knew better than to allow that.

"It was very fortunate that your powers returned when they did. Without your sword protecting the wounded..."

"I shouldn't have lost them in the first place. I should have been able to…to…"

"To fight."

A few hours after the mass battle, as we were returning to seireitei, a small group of hollows that had broken away from the main group wandered into our path. There weren't many shinigami in the group, just a few low seats and a handful from other squads acting as guards. And of course, the wounded. The hollows had borne down on us so fast…but before the guards were finished shouting orders, I had already thrown myself at them, moving so quickly from hollow to hollow I had half the group chasing me before the other shinigami joined the fight.

"Yes!"

"But you are not in a front-line combat squad. The strength of fourth squad supports those who fight, to heal or-"

"I couldn't even do that! All I could…I couldn't...do anything…"

Unohana crossed the distance as I stumbled, supporting me. I looked up at her surprised, not even understanding that she was _there,_next to me, and I stared wide-eyed, unable to focus on the here-and-now while too many feelings and memories I couldn't reconcile all fighting for my attention. 

"You may have seen battle as a warrior, but not as a medic. You are used to acting instead of waiting. Knowing what you were capable of and deciding things with your power, instead of watching people live or die without being able to affect things."

The world moved again, and I was sitting on a low bench. I followed a pair of sandals up from the ground to see Unohana sitting next to me, once again staring at something only she could see.

"It's the same…not having spiritual powers, as not having a tool or a sword when you need it most. Not having control, knowing that despite everything you've done, some things will never be completely in your hands."

She looked at me then, pulling herself away from that distant place.

"I considered it when I saw you working to study your condition. As a healer there is only so much that can be done, and there is a great deal more that only the patient can decide. And if you desire to continue here…you must come to accept that."

"If I…continue?"

"With your level of power, your abilities would be wasted in any other capacity fourth squad might offer. Perhaps you should consider a transfer to another squad."

The garden was silent for a long time, and for a few moments before the silence broke, I could see what Unohana was looking at. 

It was a decision, one that she'd made a long time ago.

The same one I was faced with now.

"After I was assigned, even with my reiatsu sealed away, I was happy. I wanted to dedicate myself completely to this squad, and do everything that I could, no matter how small."

My legs protested, everything feeling heavy and awkward as I stood and took a few careful steps.

"You say that as hard as I try, there will be some things I'll be helpless to change. I don't ever want to feel that again, but I can't leave. I can't control everything, but for the sake of what I **can** do, I'll hold this decision in my hands, at least."

I make an attempt to straighten my robes, brushing at imaginary dirt and wiping away real tears with my sleeve, trying to look a little presentable as I turned to face my Tachou, saluting off-key.

"With your permission, Unohana-Taichou, I'd like to remain in fourth squad."

For a moment, odd as it was with the expression already on she face, she seemed to smile _more_. She answered me with something formal, bowing slightly. I returned it the bow much deeper and with an expression of gratitude. I bid her good night and left her in the garden, and the last I saw of her was her gaze returning to that distant place.

Sharing a smile with her younger self. 


	8. Breakout

In life, I'd been a child for such a sort time before those qualities were stripped away and I was forced to play adult. I was a child again with the awakening of my reiatsu by the 11th squad, but I ultimately only imitated them. Only after I had died, after the struggle to regain my reiatsu and I had listened to the words of Unohana-taichou and my Zanpakutou did I really start to look at myself.

I'd finally found it…a direction in life, and the desire to pursue it.

I wasn't about to waste a night like this staring at my ceiling.

I left the barracks behind and stepped out into the broad streets that circled the inner courts, picking a direction at random. It was a treat to see Seireitei after dark, the moonlight making the polished stonework seem to glow with a pale inner light. The narrow, twisting alleyways that had been built to confuse invaders made wonderful shadow-play, patterns emerging and shifting as I looked out across the fortifications of the outer courts from the rooftops.

I didn't ruin the trip with shunpo, but took the time to see all the subtle changes that the moon made to the face of Seireitei. Even the presence of the distant prison-tower, a massive construct of deathstone that was uncomfortable to be near seemed subdued, menace softening in moonlight.

Everything was just…perfect.

"Brr…"

Almost. Next time I go for a walk in the middle of the night, I need to bring a coat. I crossed my arms and tucked my hands into my sleeves, rubbing my arms to warm them. The temperature had dropped, the chill pressed on my thin robes. Time to go back, I suppose. There would be other moonlight nights-

**No. Not for you.**

I turned at the sound. I didn't see anyone…and didn't sense anyone either. Odd. I continued walking, watching as my breath steamed in the air. I rounded a corner and slipped, falling against the wall and grunting in surprise.

The stones beneath my feet were coated in frost, and I backed away, confused and worried. This couldn't be natural…

**It is not.**

"Who? Who said that?"

Sanguine jester was in my hands, crimson blade glowing in the pale light. I still couldn't sense anyone nearby, and that made me worry. I didn't know what was going on, but-

**This has taken far too long already.**

I finally realized on the source of the voice, focused on where the voice was impossibly coming from. I was too shocked to do anything, to yell or even to drop my scythe. There was a face in the blade, but it wasn't the Jester, cold and angular where the Jester was open and bright.

**And I will not allow for any last-second foolishness.**

My sleeves shattered, the fabric falling away in frozen shards as my arms were encased in black ice, freezing my hands to the grips of my zanpakutou. I screamed as I realized it, as the unnatural cold rushed up my arms and dug into my chest. I knew this feeling.

I had felt it at the moment of my death.

* * *

"La, la, da da da da…"

Off-key and off-kilter, Kyouraku Shunsui wobbled down the street supported by his fukutaichou. Behind them, slightly unsteady but walking on his own, Ukitake followed slowly. He'd felt well this evening, and taken his friend up on an offer to go out. Nanao had tracked them both down, apparently hoping to pre-empt any trouble her taichou might drag his friend into.

Tonight, the trouble involved several very jealous men and lots of broken furniture. A few drinks had encouraged Kyouraku to woo some visiting girls with song, and the men traveling with them had taken exception to that. Ukitake had wisely moved to the far end of the bar and watched for flying debris, ducking the occasional barstool or body flung his way.

He'd only stood later to intercept a man that moved to threaten Nanao when it appeared she and Kyouraku knew each other from her scolding, and Ukitake had sacrificed the last of his drink when he laid his mug across the back of the man's skull. Nanao would have been more than capable of handling herself, of course, but if Kyouraku had seen his Nanao-chan being accosted, well…suffice to say the third district of Rukongai would now be one tavern short.

Kyouraku started up with a song that he'd written _especially _for the glory that was Nanao-chan while Ukitake wondered when the man would finally get serious about romancing her.

Two verses in, and a scream tore into the air that made the three shinigami freeze.

"Ise-san, did you…"

"Yes, I heard. What-"

It sounded again, louder, a wailing scream that pushed the fuzz from Ukitake's mind, leaving his friends far behind with a flash-step that took him onto one of the main streets. There was a strange pall in the air, a mass of incomprehensible reiatsu that poured out from somewhere ahead of him. It dimmed as he closed on it, stepping carefully around slashes of black ice that thickened as he progressed and stole the heat from the surroundings.

Rounding a corner with one blade ready to draw, ice crunched under Ukitake's feet as he approached a figure on the ground. The body was crumpled and shaking, facedown on the ground and covered in more of the unnatural frost.

"Are you alright?"

Ukitake stepped around a chunk of ice, watching the surroundings from the corners of his eyes as he leaned down.

"What happened here?"

The shaking stopped at his touch, and the ice around them shattered.

* * *

The ground shook, and the force of the reiatsu currents raised the wind around Kyouraku and Ise, making them raise their arms in defense as razor-sharp shards of ice flew past. They clearly sensed two great sources of reiatsu swirling and smashing against each other – but it was the cry of pain that spurred Kyouraku forwards despite the weight of the evening's carousing.

He ran out into the main street in time to see Ukitake thrown from a nearby alleyway, bloody and cursing. Kyouraku was at his side in a flash. A presence manifested to his side, and a zanpakutou slid out to intercept a wicked downwards thrust that would have nailed Ukitake to the cobblestones. Kyouraku's arms moved almost by themselves, centuries of muscle memory throwing away two more attacks before he could consciously focus on his attacker, let his mind process what he saw.

Tattered shinigami robes limed with frost led to a long scythe with a pale white blade. Past that was a bruise-blue half-mask clinging to a young man's face, and pale yellow eyes that lifted the sake from his brain in an instant.

The eyes of a hollow.

* * *

A rising cut brought a tower down, filling the streets with dust and debris. A double-thrust glanced an arm and drew a thin line of blood. Around the two combatants, the streets and features of Seireitei were being worn away, one cut and reiatsu-burst at a time.

Kyouraku had managed to draw this _thing _away from his friend, and he let himself be chased to a wide courtyard where he didn't sense anyone nearby. It hadn't paused in its attack to speak, or even to size up its opponent, only attacking, constantly attacking, an endless stream of cuts and thrusts. Kyouraku had to release his zanpakutou mid-battle, forcing the words out in time to the impacts on his blades.

He had the advantage in reiatsu, but the endless attacks were wearing on him physically. He could sense shinigami gathering, little points of light approaching in a haphazard fashion along with the sound of a general alarm at the edge of his senses. His Bankai may well cinch the battle, but at this point, it might prove a greater danger to those around him than the hollow-thing. 'It' wasn't any class of hollow he was familiar with. The closest thing that came to mind was…

The scythe opened Kyouraku's leg just above the knee in the moment he was distracted. If he was right, there was a shinigami in there somewhere, that he might or might not be able to help, and that made things a lot more complicated.

It was just after that thought that help came from on high, and he flash-stepped away a moment before his fukutaichou peeled the night away with a blast of tightly-focused Kido, a solid column of light that struck the hollow full-on from directly above.

"Nanao-chan, you make a wonderful angel…"

Ise landed next to her captain, ignoring the remark and immediately moving to treat his wounds.

"Ukitake-taichou is wounded but stable. Fourth squad has him. I've sent out a general alert and a request for high-level reinforcements."

"Good. Then let's-"

Ise squawked as Kyouraku suddenly threw an arm around her and lifted them both to a nearby rooftop. It wasn't until she felt him tense for a second flash-step that she noticed the red glow behind her. A Cero obliterated the rooftop they'd been standing on a moment before, and Kyouraku released her a moment later to block a savage swing that wrenched a shoulder out of place and threw him back down to the ground.

Ise yelled her taichou's name, and the hollow turned his attention to her. It leapt, only to be hit by a crushing wave that drove it into a wall. Ukitake floated down, pulling his friend out of the miniature lake he'd created and setting him on dry land. Kyouraku sputtered and bit back a cry of pain as Ukitake pushed his injured shoulder back into place and applied a quick healing technique to counteract any damage from the rough gesture.

Despite Ukitake's half-treated wounds and the cough that Kyouraku knew as a warning sign of his friend's illness taking hold, Kyouraku didn't try to warn his friend away. He knew what was going through his mind right now.

"Ahhh…I take you out for a drink, keep you up late when you should be in bed, and now look at the trouble I got you in."

Beneath them, the hollow/shinigami began pulling itself free of the rubble on top of it. Kyouraku raised his blades slowly, testing his shoulder.

"And that's nothing to say of the mess we've made…"

Ukitake moved to support Kyouraku's wounded side, forcing his breathing under control despite the pain in his lungs.

The hollow/shinigami stood in a spray of water and debris, screaming in rage and hefting it's weapon once again. Kyouraku addressed his fukutaichou with a look and a nod, watching her step out of sight and begin whispering a powerful binding incantation.

"I'll get such a scolding from Yama-jii for all this…"

"Don't worry, I'll vouch for your good character."

They shared a strained grin for simpler times, and met the hollow as it leapt.

* * *

"Unn…Ugh…"

Where…

I was in so much pain, I could barely think straight. What happened? This was...no...wasn't fourth squad headquarters…'s too dark…pipes and…stuff…machines…

I tried to move. I couldn't. Not my arms, my fingers, not even my head. I struggled against my bonds despite the pain, testing them. I didn't move, by effort or by falling to exhaustion, not by the tiniest amount.

Time passed, and there was a sound. Light. Voices. A white haori fluttered into view.

Kurotsuchi-taichou stalked around my prone form, stroking a cut on his cheek that had resisted his immediate attempts to heal it.

"Now…"

A group of shinigami, the white coats of the research division, bustled into the room baring trays and pushing carts whose contents caught and glittered in the light.

"Once _again…_" He pushed his thumb into the cut one last time, ignoring the blood that trickled down his face.

"Let's begin."


	9. throwdown

Hurrah for all-night benders. If you'll excuse me, the sun is coming up. brain brewakin - breaking. egh.

* * *

A little over a year ago, Kurotsuchi Mayuri had used me as bait to catch a hollow. He'd ordered his fukutaichou, a girl I'd become infatuated with at first sight to lead me to an isolated area, probably knowing I was too love-struck to question the chance to be alone with her. When I'd realized what he'd done, even though I was too withdrawn at the time to do more then curse and spit, she had stepped up to stop me. I could see, if only in my imagination, that she didn't like what she had done. But I later realized, in those times I had asked people about her, that she followed her taichou slavishly, even to the point of self-destruction. It was a very stupid thing, building up hatred for someone ten times my age and strength.

When I saw him again, it all came out.

The room shook with my yell. Seals sparked against my skin and I strained against the bindings. Arms, legs, head, even individual fingers…Everything had been meticulously tied down. Kurotsuchi looked on with something resembling boredom as I emptied my lungs.

"Finished?"

Exhausted, the cold inside me returned. I hated that even more, and I sank into it, trying to reach for something that would piss me off enough to tear my way out of whatever was holding me down and throttle the bastard. I dug down as far as I could…and something was waiting. _It _grabbed _me._

"Ohhhhhh…"

The building shook and frost lined the walls, but the seals held. Yellow eyes focused on the hated-thing in front of them, and rational thought slipped away, buried beneath a layer of ice creeping over my face.

"Now_ that's_ what I wanted to see."

Kurotsuchi was positively twitching with delight. He could barely keep a proper hold on the scalpel.

* * *

"I understand that. But now that he is contained, should not our priority should be to undo what has been done to him?"

The captain's meeting was tense. The battle with the Hikaru/Hollow had nearly spilled out of the defensive cordon and into Seireitei at large. Komamura and Tousen had been close, and were the first at the scene, emerging bruised and bloody afterwards. Aizen and Soifon had also responded, though too late to take part in the battle. Ukitake was still recovering from his injuries, and despite his own, Kyouraku had insisted on attending. They were the only captains present. Yamamoto had decided to exclude the others from the proceedings.

"Unohana-Taichou…" Aizen's eyes were narrowed slightly, though his voice was carefully neutral. "But what do you mean, 'what has been done to him?' Do you know the reason for his…transformation?"

"You _knew_ something like this might happen?" Soifon's tone was decidedly less diplomatic.

"No. I had no idea a situation like this would arise."

"Excuse me, but it still seems like you know a lot more then you're letting on."

Unohana glanced sidelong at Kyouraku. His haori was torn and bloody, and his hat had a gash through it in line with a cut across one shoulder. The other captains were also staring at her with varying degrees of politeness.

"This is not commonly known outside of 4th squad, but Teranaga-san suffers from a strange affliction that effectively cripples his body's ability to produce reiatsu. It was like nothing I had ever seen before, and the subject of much debate among the senior doctors. Later, I confirmed what he told me by consulting the reports made of the ambush against the previous year's student excursion. Teranaga Hikaru was killed in the process of defeating a hollow well-known for performing unusual experiments upon both shinigami and humans with high spiritual potential. His own corpse was found next to the bodies of seventeen students that had each been severely mutilated."

Unohana let her eyes sweep the room, taking measure of each taichou's reaction and mentally filing the information away for later.

"After last night, the conclusion was obvious. I believe his condition was merely one symptom of something that was done to him in his last moments of life, the ultimate result of which we have now seen. I have already directed all information I have on the subject to Kurotsuchi-Taichou, in the hopes it will provide clues on how to undo this transformation."

"Central room 46 has made the examination of the transformative process a priory. Kurotsuchi Taichou has also been instructed to provide a detailed account of the hollowfied shinigami's capabilities."

Yamamoto's gravely proclamation returned the room to silence. The unspoken implications stifled anything further, and the captains were dismissed after a few more meaningless, official proclamations.

Outside, Kyouraku limped into stride next to Unohana, tilting his ruined hat in greeting.

"Are you going to file a formal protest?"

"I fear that would do little in a situation like this."

"But he's your subordinate. You must have _some_ say in the matter."

"I do not intend to abandon him, but until I find a way to change the opinions of Central 46, Hikaru is on his own."

* * *

I shouldn't have been able to breathe. It felt like I was drowning in tar, and just enough air was getting through to keep me conscious. The effort alone was agonizing, and my limbs ached from clawing at the mass around me.

There was reiatsu restraining me in some way, a putrid mess that that only made the entire ordeal worse. I had no idea how long I'd been in that state, until a hand reached for mine and pulled me out, coughing and choking on the mess in my nose and throat.

_Move! Hurry, damnit!_

"Sa…" I looked up, wiping my eyes clear. I'd know that voice anywhere…"Jester?"

_No, I'm the queen mum!_

The slap wasn't really appreciated, but it was certainly helpful.

_Now wake up! We've got a problem, and I won't be here to help you for much longer._

"I…I was walking through Seireitei, and something…"

It took a moment to click. I was in that mental space where my zanpakutou dwelled, but the place was different. Changed. Great blobs of black sludge were falling upwards to impact on the sky, spreading out like smoke. Some sizzled away to nothing, some clung fast. Beneath, the red-veined tiles looked infected with more of the same. I had been pulled from a break in the floor, just one pit among that lay like lesions across the landscape.

_Something's in here, with us. I can't fight it on my own. The bastard has help…_

"Help? What? What are you talking about?"

Sanguine Jester, in his full glory, was the empty silhouette of a man, framed by gaudy cloth wrappings and a bright porcelain mask. As I watched, the image began to fade away, and the Jester let out a tirade of curses as he began to slip away.

"Jester!"

_Fight! That's all you need to do! Take control! Take back your body, your soul! FIGHT!_

And then he was gone. But I wasn't alone. I saw what was almost the jester's mirror image striding out of the mist. The expression on the mask was downturned, and the cloth grey, dead of emotion and feeling. The figure carried a sword – my sword.

"What are you?"

**I am the Sanguine Jester.**

My answer was a raised eyebrow.

**And I am taking control. You cannot defeat-**

He drew the sword in a flash, blocking my attack cleanly. I didn't know where my own sword had come from – I was sure I had lost it somewhere in the tar. All I could be sure of was that I had an opponent, a weapon in my hand, and a battle to win. There was nothing else to go on.

"You'll forgive me if I don't take your word on that."

**As you will.**

* * *

Whoever-whatever he was, he was good. It seemed like an almost even match, disturbingly so. He anticipated my attacks, and I flowed away from his counters. It really was like fighting myself. The resemblance to the Jester was clear in the way he looked, and opposed by the way he acted, dry and banal in his words.

**This is pointless. The battle was decided on the day you died.**

"How do you figure that?"

**Do you remember this feeling? The chill, the numbness?**

"…That hollow…"

**Correct. You succeeded in killing it. It succeeded in his intention, as well.**

"Bastard did something to me? I knew it!"

I pressed the attack, a moment's anger fuelling the drive forwards.

**Ultimately, he was the victor. His death was unplanned for, but irrelevant. It was a point in your favor that had no effect upon the final outcome.**

"Then what? What was the point? Was I another experiment then?"

**Correct.**

We flung ourselves apart. The grey jester didn't seem to be tired, but I felt that I had gained a slight advantage over him, somehow. Fighting him hadn't left much time to think. Studying a book and applying the information was one thing, but making sense out of nothing and weirdness…

**The experiment was a success. The parasite implanted within you activated a dormant section of your soul, resulting in my awakening. I am the Sanguine Jester that would have been born had you not become a shinigami.**

**"**So, that makes you what? The Jester's evil twin?"

**No. A hollow is not 'evil.' **

"Yeah…just base impulses…the mask shields and contains higher, rational thought. Like the Id trying to suppress the Superego."

**Very good. An astute analogy. And I am your inner hollow, given voice and form. **

The air behind him the Hollow Jester rippled, an image forming. I watched myself walking through Seireitei, being frozen to the ground and approached by Ukitake-Taichou. I saw myself slide the point of my sword between his ribs, the awkward angle slowing the attack and probably saving his life. The Hollow Jester dashed forwards before the illusionary blood hit the ground. I scrambled to keep from loosing my sword, and the images followed us, billowing out behind the Jester like a photographer's backdrop.

As I fought, I watched myself fight the two captains and a rather attractive lieutenant who gave as good as she got, kido-punting me around Seireitei until help could arrive. I winced for Komamura, remembering the gift he'd given me so long ago. Tousen was unreadable, but I caught the word 'justice' and I parried a swift strike with a laugh, trying to focus with images of him in a super-sentai suit dancing in my mind's eye. Somehow, it helped me balance the scales again, finding my footing and returning the flow of battle to something more manageable.

"Looks like it didn't help you all that much."

I saw myself dragged in chains to the 12th division, strapped down in a sealing room. I seethed when I realized that it hadn't been a bad dream – I was under that freak Kurotsuchi's mercy, and I'd heard the stories about him.

Oddly enough, the Hollow Jester didn't press the advantage as I bent over to grab my sides in laughter. The seals weren't enough to hold me. Kurotsuchi went through a wall, his legs kicking in the air as he landed upside-down in rubble.

"Oh, damn! I've…hah hah…wanted to do that-for…a long time! HA!"

The view in the image shifted.

Nemu.

**With the parasite's help, I was able to act on base desires, free from the constraints of reason and conscience. **

The image of the hollowfied Hikaru followed as he advanced on the girl. I stopped laughing. She was strong. A vice-captain. I was a twentieth seat. Bottom of the barrel. Even with this thing inside me, there was no way…no…way…

That damned, fragile black cloth. The attack wasn't meant to injure. The garment was shredded, showing the white cloth underneath.

"NO!"

The attack was impossible to avoid. I impacted the ground so hard the resulting cloud of debris was a mercy. It partially hid what followed as the jester pursued me, the damned images following him. Researchers were batted away. A sharp blow to the temple left Nemu dazed and helpless. Her clothing was torn away piece-by-piece. An identical strike left me on the ground, staring upwards at the Jester. He stood obscuring the frozen image behind him, a single eye wide with fear all that I could see of her.

"What…did you do to her…"

**Nothing. These are not my desires. They are yours. I am not an entity that controlled or manipulated you. I am only the mask, as the bright one is the sword. He can give you power, but I will grant you freedom. Free of useless, self-imposed limitations, I will allow you to find the place you truly belong… **

The scythe he carried, grey and dull, concealed what little of Nemu I could see as he raised it for the final blow.

"No…"

The scythe came down.

"NO!"

Metal screamed as the blades met, the point narrowly missing my skull and stabbing into the ground.

"I decided…**I decided**...I would NEVER let myself be held back again, tied down, beholden to anything. Nothing but the things I chose for myself. Now show me! Show me what I did!"

**You desire to punish yourself for your sin? **

"It's my choice!"

I threw him off of me, rolling to my feet and seeing Nemu, beautiful, terrified Nemu beneath me once again, my hand reaching for her.

"I fuck up, I get punished for it! That's how it works!"

**Pointless.**

**"**Pointless is living without making a single decision for yourself!"

I swept my scythe out, low and wide. It should have made for an easy counter, but it came in fast enough that the jester had to shunpo away to save his legs.

"I accept that you are a part of me. I accept…that I was weak, and that I allowed you to control me. It was my decision to fight, to desire, to chase her, and I will not run from the consequences of my choices. …No matter what."

I look up at the still image, willing it to resume, to show whatever I had allowed myself to do. The image remained still and frozen, Jester resuming his attack with a vengeance.

I was inside my own mind. Everything I'd ever done in this space had been accomplished through sheer determined willpower alone, and everything I could spare told the memory-image to continue.

It was slow, and for a moment, between cuts and parries, I almost missed it. My hand continued it's decent…and stopped again. But Nemu was still moving, gathering her wits, dropping the useless scraps of clothing she had tried to gather and bracing herself against the floor. My hand twitched, but would go no further. Nemu lifted a leg, giving me one single moment of a very tantalizing angle I'd spent more then one night dreaming about.

And then she kicked me square in my FUCKING FACE.

The Image rocked, returning level only to meet Nemu's counterattack. Palm, knuckle, knee, elbow, it came too fast to follow, a rain of blows against the mask over my face. I could feel the impacts, phantom pains against my face. I spat out a chip, tasted the powered bone, cut my cheek as a shard was driven into my skin.

I had held back. At the last second, I had held back and given her the opening she needed. The last thing the image provided was the sight of a half-naked Nemu drawing up a huge amount of reiatsu for her kido.

"And that is why I love her."

**This changes nothing. You still-**

"I know."

The expression of the Jester's face didn't change when I rammed the point of my blade through the mask, straight between the eyes. I gripped the hilt with both hands, stepping in and sticking an foot behind his before pushing, hard. I fell with him, nailing the mask to the stone beneath and resting for a moment in the pile of rotting cloth.

"I know…that you are a part of me. One part, one half. Heh. The yin to my yang. I am in love with her. I desire her. I am protective, I am possessive. I cherish, I covet. I'm probably an idiot for doing this, chasing a girl I'll probably never catch. …But that's life, I guess."

_Sucks, don't it?_

"You have no idea."

_Actually…_

The ground began to rumble, the tar flowing through the landscape boiling up from the cracks in the stone.

_Uh oh. Problem.  
_

"Anyone I know?"

_It's that damned thing that was stuck inside you when you died. _

"That thing is what caused all of this?"

_Yep. So what are you…oh. Oh my._

I stood, setting the bright and bloody scythe over my shoulders as the tar coalesced, a featureless worm coiling around we, filling the space within my mind with its mass.

"I accept that there is a side to me that I can never let out. There are things I want to do so badly…I don't know if I'll ever get used to these kinds of choices, the freedom and the consequence that follow. But I have to accept my fault in this."

The worm screamed in rage.

"But I'm not the only one at fault here, as fucked up as I am. You manipulated me. You made me hate myself. You left me unable to help people I cared about."

The ground shuddered, and the kind of power I hadn't felt in a long time began to well up inside of me.

_Oh, delicious __Schadenfreude incoming.._

"You tried to make me hurt someone I **love**."

The worm tightened its coils, gathering every scrap of energy it had in desperation. The shinigami and its components had finally shaken completely free of its control, and they were all arrayed against it.

_**You should not have done that…**_

* * *

Kurotsuchi spat as something black and vile was expelled from the last incision. He'd barely managed to keep the subject restrained long enough to begin working when something spurted out over his robe and fell to the floor. It whined and tried to crawl away.

A specimen bottle slammed down around it, and the worm was raised to meet a very strange face.

"Well hello there. What might you be?"


	10. epilogue

It was another week before I was released for the 12th squad laboratories. After I'd forced the parasite-thing from my body, all traces of the transformation had vanished. Unohana-Taichou had requested to be updated regularly on my situation, and when it seemed I was back to normal, she politely suggested that holding me was no longer necessary. Kurotsuchi had apparently tried to convince Central 46 that I was still important research material (bastard) but after a week of being poked, probed and wrung out with no sign of hollowfication, Unohana's arguments won out.

The last memory of have of that place was an apology to Nemu for what I'd done. She'd brushed it off as nothing, and had turned away before I could rise from the bow and see her face. I chose to believe she didn't hate me, but I knew I should keep my distance from her, for the time being.

After that, things were mostly back to normal. My reiatsu was back and in a big way, hopefully to stay. I was somewhat notorious for a time, with shinigami either avoiding or staring at me. It's not everyday that a shinigami/hollow hybrid pops up and nearly fights two captains to a draw. I heard from someone that something like this had happened about a century ago, though. Maybe I'll do some research…

* * *

"Teranaga-san?"

"Good evening, Taichou."

The garden was beautiful at night. I found I was spending a little more time there.

"Have you been feeling well?"

"Yes, very. Thank you for getting me out of that madhouse."

She gave me a faintly disapproving look. Just a little one, before we let the sounds of the evening take over. The snset was beautiful, but…

"Is there something on your mind?"

"Well, just now that I have my reiatsu back…"

"Yes?"

I couldn't hold back the grin. Or the maniacal laugher. Sweet Kami, I'd been planning this for a long time.

* * *

The expression on my taichou's face was magnitudes more disapproving, but it didn't compare to the other glowers and frowns and snarls around me.

Really, I'd only been doing my job. I'd filled in for one of my squadmates, and that was the only reason I'd been near 11th squad headquarters just before the inspection. I couldn't help it if _someone _had mixed up the paperwork and not delivered fresh laundry to the squad storehouse. I took their dirty laundry like I'd done a hundred times before, and I'm _sorry_ if a group of half-naked elevens had started mugging shinigami for their clothes or tried to sneak into the other squad's storehouses.

One group had snuck up on Matsumoto-fukataichou while she was in the 10th squad garden. Really, if her taichou had heard her shriek and arrived to find her being accosted by a group of naked men, could _I _be held responsible if he'd released his zanpakutou in response?

They were treated for frostbite. At least nothing fell off.

I'm absolutely _devastated _that they had nothing to wear just before an official inspection. I can't _imagine_ the trouble I caused the 12th squad, or the Soutaichou himself (which I truly regret) or the mayhem that resulted when the elevens went garment-hunting around the 12th squad headquarters (which I don't regret nearly as much.)

And I have absolutely _no idea _how the 11th squad guards minding the storehouse, where the extra uniforms were _supposed _to be, had gotten those bruises.

So I bowed and apologized as much as I could, accepting the token punishment without complaint. I passed a wall of snarling elevens on the way back. The entire group turned red-faced when a group of girls started giggling at the sight of them.

Except for Yumichika, of course. I didn't want to know what he'd been up to during that fateful naked day.

With that out of my system, _now _things were back to normal, and moving forwards. Learning kido, new techniques, shunpo-ing to work in the morning…

Teranaga Hikaru, 4th squad, 4th seat.

Unlucky? I think it suits me.


End file.
